There's a liberal under my bed
by The Cajun Russian
Summary: Gambit babysitting An unusual phobia. 1st fan fic. No flames, PLEASE!


There's a Liberal under my bed

Disclaimer: I only own books and a fat cat. I do not own X-men or Marvel. sigh Wish I did, though. I have no money-Wait.... digs in pocket A DIME!! I'M RICH!! I'm not really, so it wouldn't be worth the time or court money to sue me.

I mean no offense to any one who has liberal views. If that's the case, fill in the blank with conservative. I don't care. Sheesh. (This idea was inspired on a true event concerning my little sister. She really had my dad check under her bed. _I_ thought it was hilarious.)

"REEEMMMMYYYY!!" the scream of a terrified child split the air. Remy jumped from the couch, leaped up the stairs, and swung on the door frame into Rose's room. In one fluid motion, he'd turned on the lights and charged two cards. All he saw was a typical six year-old girl's room, namely pink, and a six year-old girl standing on her bed in a nightgown, face a picture of abject fear, amid a sea of blankets and stuffed toys.

"What is it, _petite_? What's de madder?"

"There's a liberal under my bed! You didn't check!"

Remy frowned. He had done a little baby-sitting in his life, and as a favor to a friend he had agreed to watch their girl and boy while he and his wife went out for their anniversary. He had checked under beds for monsters, ghosts, skeletons, mummies, and even once for a mailman, but this was really bizzare.

"Um... a what?"

"A liberal! They're scary. They're on TV. They gots too big smiles."Sniff.

Remy wondered what her sugar intake had been that day.

"Rosie, dere's nothin' under yo' bed." He took a quick, just-for-show peek under the bed. "See? Nothin'. Now you gotta go t'sleep. 'Night."

"G'night Remy."

As he left her room and settled down on the sofa to watch TV. A liberal. Sheesh. Her brother Danny had gone to bed _early_ and with _no_ complaint, but then again, he was 12. Flipping channels, Remy stopped on a poker tournament and was quickly enraptured in the game, watching each player and mentally critiquing or applauding how they played each hand. Not ten minutes later, a blur of pink shot down the stars and launched itself onto his lap and was around his neck, knocking the breath out of him.

A trembling Rosie looked up and babbled, "I heard it!! There's a liberal under my bed! It made a growl! It was for real!!"

"Rosie, dere's nothin' dere! Remy checked."

"Please check again. Please?"

"Fine. Dis da last time, 'kay?"

Rosie, offering no promises, just tightened her hold around his neck.

Remy took her upstairs. Short on patience, he turned on the lights, firmly placed her on her bed, got on his knees, and pulled up the frilly bed skirt.

"RAAAHHHH!!!" Senator Kelly attacked him, springing forward and grabbing a shocked Remy's arms. Remy pulled back, incidentally bringing out the mini terror, which Rose saw, and started shrieking.

Any person who would have seen the next two minutes would have died laughing. Except Remy and Rosie. A swearing Remy grappled with a clawing, kicking, hair-pulling, and occasionally biting liberal, as Rosie stared on wide-eyed, screaming with a endurance and high pitch only little girls can manage.

Grabbing the. . .thing that was biting his arm, Remy threw...it onto the floor. Finally able to get a good look, he saw is was a boy in a mask, wearing a business suit. The boy was laughing hysterically. Remy was not.

"Danni! Yo' mammuh an' poppuh gonna have a hard time finding yo' bones, boy!!"

Three hours later

Remy was on the couch fuming, having soothed Rose to sleep and having thrown Danny bodily into his room, threatening him with horrible and bloody fates that would await him if he heard one peep the rest of the night. He had raided the medicine cabinet for hydrogen peroxide to put on the bites he had received. No knowing what kind of diseases that little nutcase had in his body, considering his sick mind.

After making sure he was not going to die of rabies, or lock-jaw, or any other infectious maladies, Remy had turned on 'Sixty Minutes' which he had turned of in a flash, groaning.

They'd been interviewing Senator Kelly. Now he had even had more reason to hate the guy. Not only did he hate mutants, Remy had been bitten by him.

Finally, the door opened, and the parents came in, smiling and relaxed.

Their happiness disgusted Remy.

"How were the kids?" asked his friend.

"You owe me big time, _homme_. That boy o' yours is a total and complete sicko."

"What did he do?" asked his friend's wife, who was acting very innocent right now, which made Remy want to either enlighten her to his opinion of her son's behavior in rather crude terms, or just blow something up.

"Ask me later, huh? Ri' now I wanna get outta here before I lose m'temper."

"Well, okay, here's your money." he was handed a twenty dollar bill.

He now realized that it was a lot easier just to steal the darn money than to work, or in this case, baby-sit for it.

Peeks timidly out from behind chair

Well? How was it?


End file.
